


Ten Minutes to Freckles, Fifteen to Burn

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Mycroft, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Greg, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rule was no mobiles on vacation, Mycroft was on his anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Minutes to Freckles, Fifteen to Burn

"Gregory this is not a laughing matter. I need my mobile." Mycroft glared at the inspector, but the silver haired man was kicked back in a patio chair, grinning at him with a drink in his hand despite the fact that it wasn't even noon. 

"We're on vacation, Mycroft. I did warn you what would happen if I caught you on it." 

Greg was being utterly insufferable. And his glares had ceased working on the inspector a while ago. He silently wondered if he was losing his touch. 

"Don't pout," Greg pulled him into his lap. He was wearing just a pair of swimming trucks, a cool breeze from the ocean ruffling their hair. Mycroft decidedly did not do shorts and was wearing a thin button up shirt. Ten minutes and he'd have more freckles. Fifteen and he'd burn. Greg kissed his clavicle, then up his jaw. He hadn't bothered shaving this morning and his gray scruff dragged against Mycroft's skin. 

Despite himself, Mycroft relaxed in Greg's arms, taking the offered sip of the drink. Something fruity that was going straight to his head. 

Chuckling, Greg set the drink aside and grabbed his hips, flipping them over so Mycroft was in the chair. He straddled him and kissed him deeply, making Mycroft moan and rock up against him. They were on the patio but the rented cottage was far from anyone else, with the beach just a few yards away. Private, just as Mycroft preferred. 

Sure hands worked Mycroft's buttons, kissing his exposed skin. Closing his eyes, Mycroft let him do as he would. He could smell the coconut of his sunscreen while he ran one hand through his lover’s hair. Greg’s rough cheek moved further down his belly until he was opening his trousers. Mycroft smiled as he swore. 

"Silk." He could hear the lust in his lover's voice and opened his eyes on brown eyes blown nearly black. 

“Perhaps not the most practical beach wear,” purred Mycroft.

“You’re so beautiful,” said Greg worshipfully, looking up at him. 

Mycroft cupped his cheek, watching him. Still meeting his eyes, Greg leaned in to mouth him through the soft fabric, making Mycroft’s eyes fall shut and his hand slip aside. He moaned softly rocking up against Greg’s mouth. Mycroft could feel Greg smiling against him as he tugged his trousers halfway down his thighs, running his thumbs along pale skin. He hooked his thumbs through the pants, just above his hipbones, and pulled them down slowly, exposing his cock to the warm air, but leaving the fabric bunched around his balls. Another moan fell from Mycroft’s lips as Greg slowly ran his tongue up the shaft, teasing his glans before licking back down again. His strong hands kept Mycroft’s hips still, making him toss his head instead and grip the arms of the chair. 

Finally, Greg slid his whole mouth down around him. Mycroft knew he wasn’t very big, but his lover’s obvious desire made all his insecurities vanish. His hand came up to rest on Greg’s shoulder as he relaxed deeper into the chair. His moans grew louder as the talented tongue swirled around his cock, gentle suction increasing and decreasing as his mouth slid up and down Mycroft’s shaft. Before Mycroft could get too far along, Greg pulled off and wiped his mouth. Mycroft panted, dazzled by the sensations; leaning up, Greg kissed his stomach. 

“Come on, let’s go inside before you burn,” he smiled, reaching down and taking Mycroft’s hand. Mycroft kicked his trousers the rest of the way off, leaving them on the patio. The cottage was only a few rooms so it was steps to their large bed. There was love and lust in Greg’s eyes as he lay him down. It was the look that terrified Mycroft the most.

Reaching for the lube, Greg settled between his thighs, watching his face. Mycroft smiled at him. Some days it felt like Greg was the only thing to smile about, at least genuinely. That was the point of this vacation, after all. A short week where they could focus only on one another. Which he had violated by being on his mobile when Greg came out of the shower. He should have realized his stubborn lover would have nicked it when he was in the shower himself. Greg nipped at his skin, bringing his attention back to the present. Two fingers pressed inside. He was still loose from lovemaking earlier that morning. And the night before that. They’d only been here a day and already they were going at each other like teenagers. Neither of them minded it at all, though he suspected he’d have to be mindful of his gait by the time they returned to London.

Greg kissed his hipbone and two fingers became three. Mycroft let his thighs fall further open for him, trusting him completely. Outside he could hear the steady crash of the waves; inside it was only their panting breaths and soft moans. Greg licked his lips, stretching him a little further before withdrawing his fingers. Shifting, Greg knelt up, pushing Mycroft’s knees up, but leaving the silk pants on. He pinned them to Mycroft’s chest as he leaned in to kiss him. 

Mycroft moaned, needy. “Gregory,” he breathed against his lips. 

The inspector nipped his lower lip as he carefully worked his way in. He set up a steady pace that matched the ocean. Mycroft’s eyes shut as he focused on his lover. His cock lay neglected between them, but that was fine. Greg’s weight was firm, comfortable despite the angle. He ran his hands up Greg’s biceps, unable to meet his thrusts, unable to do anything but take what he was given. With a shift of Greg’s hips Mycroft cried out as his prostate was struck. Greg changed position, holding both Mycroft’s legs over one shoulder as he drove into him, a little harder, a little faster. Mycroft reached up to grab the headboard, head arching back with pleasure

A warm hand wrapped around his cock and he gasped. Greg had him, body and soul. Mycroft’s world narrowed down to the pleasure building from the inside. It only took a few expert strokes and he was shouting his release, followed a moment later by Greg, grabbing his hips nearly hard enough to bruise.

As he pulled out, he took him in his arms, giving Mycroft a slow sloppy kiss. Mycroft returned it, one hand in his hair, the other smoothing down his back. Greg pulled back first and kissed his nose. “No more mobile?”

“May I at least check it in the morning?”

“Will the world end if you don’t?” There was a twinkle in Greg’s eyes.

“Possibly,” replied Mycroft.

“If they need you that badly, they’ll find a way to contact you.” Greg hugged him tightly and kissed him again. “We’ll go swimming later,” he murmured.

“Just make sure you apply sunblock everywhere,” muttered Mycroft.

Greg’s hand slid down to squeeze his arse. “Oh I will. Vacation. Relax. Let me take care of you.”

Mycroft watched him fall asleep, rolling onto his back. He was fairly certain he knew exactly where Greg had put his mobile. But, right now at least, he didn’t care. He kissed his lover and settled in next to him, one hand draped across his chest, satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to type_40_consulting_detective for the prompt. I'm pondering a sequel. You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
